


A Christmas Mystery

by MarvelBunny



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera - Gaston Leroux
Genre: Christmas, F/M, Gen, Mystery, Someone dies, Takes places before most of the events of the novel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:28:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28210164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarvelBunny/pseuds/MarvelBunny
Summary: Christine has a lot going on in her life. Raoul is being deployed and he's not happy about it. Erik is persistently stalking her and filling her dreams with haunting music. Between the two of them, she's halfway on the train to looney town, the last thing she needs is another problem. But on Christmas morning, that's exactly what she gets and this problem is bigger than Philippe wanting to marry Raoul off to a rich young lady.
Relationships: Christine Daaé/Erik | Phantom of the Opera, Comte Philippe de Chagny/La Sorelli, Raoul de Chagny/Christine Daaé
Kudos: 6





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the first chapter of Christmas mystery, hopefully you enjoy it.

Christine Daae sat on the top of the opera house, wrapping her shawl tightly around her shoulders. Raoul should have been there an hour ago.  
Why was he late?  
Christine furrowed her brow, was he hurt?  
Christine puffed out her cheeks like an angry pufferfish and let out a sputtering gust of air, something she had picked up from Erik without noticing. Raoul was just late, he was so preoccupied with his upcoming deployment, that it seemed like he had forgotten about her.  
Music wafted up to the roof from below. The managers had decided to throw a little party before Christmas. A lot of the workers didn’t have a family to go home to and would be spending the holiday in the opera house. Christine would be spending Christmas with her mother regardless of how upset Erik was about it.

Christine rose to her feet, she didn’t see Raoul anywhere and she wasn’t going to spend the night freezing on a roof waiting for him, not when her friends were in the opera house having fun and most importantly, not getting frostbit. Christine turned around and slammed into a dark figure that almost sent her tumbling off the building, she let out a little yelp and her arms wind milled frantically as she tried to keep her balance. A pale, cold hand caught her wrist and steadied her.  
Christine immediately recognized the figure in front of her and scowled.

“You almost killed me!” Christine shouted.

“Erik would not have let Christine fall,” 

Christine glared at him, shaking her head slowly in disapproval. She hitched up her skirt and sidestepped him, marching towards the rooftop door.

“The boy is not coming, is he?"

“You tell me,” Christine said tersely.

Erik huffed. “Why does Christine always accuse Erik of terrible things?”

“Because you do terrible things!”

“N-Not recently,” Erik said.

Christine frowned, well at least that probably meant he hadn’t killed Raoul. Christine opened the rooftop door, instantly a wave of warmth hit her and she sighed in relief, she could hear the sound of excited voices drifting up the stairwell. No one had noticed her absence.

“Christine is going to spend all her night with those people,” Erik said.

Something in his tone made Christine nervous, so far Erik had left her friends alone but she wasn’t sure how long that tolerance would last.

“I’m going to head home early,” Christine said.

“And leave Erik here all alone,”

“You could join us,” Christine said, looking at Erik with a thoughtful frown. “If you wore your fake nose.”

“They would burn Erik,” Erik said with such conviction Christine almost laughed.

“No they wouldn’t,” Christine said. “I’ve seen people with faces far worse than yours and they’re fine.”

“I severely doubt that,” Erik said quietly.

“My neighbor got burned with acid, trust me, it was a lot worse,” Christine said. “And you know with the syphilis outbreaks a lot of people look like...”

Christine trailed off when she saw Erik’s confused expression and realized that Erik probably didn’t even know syphilis was and she was in no mood to explain it.

“A lot of people have face problems,” Christine said finally. “I’ll show you one day.”

Erik shrugged, he didn’t seem relieved at the revelation, and sometimes Christine wondered if he just wanted to believe his face was the worst thing in the world, so he had an excuse to keep staying in his dungeon. 

“I’m going now,” Christine said, when Erik made no response she slipped inside and went down the stairs.

The party was in full swing, the warmth of the candles competed with the intentionally dimmed chandeliers. Christine found Jammes and Sorelli sitting at a small table with two other dancers.

“You’re finally here!” Jammes said. “What’s took you so long?”

“I was uh, waiting for Raoul,” Christine stammered.

“What a pity,” Sorelli said. “The count isn’t coming either.”

“Do you know why?” Christine asked.

“Family matter,” Sorelli muttered angrily.

“Oh,” Christine said. Why hadn’t he sent a message? “Are things working out between you two?”

Sorelli’s face froze in a pained smile. “It’s getting there, how about you and the viscount? he’s always saying there’s another man after your affections.”

“Sorelli,” Jammes hissed.

“Oh does he?” Christine asked.

Sorelli looked embarrassed. “He could have meant something else, I might be mistaken, don’t quote me.”

“No, it’s fine, plenty of men are interested in me,” Christine said with a shrug. “Raoul doesn’t like that.”

A loud choking cough filled the room, everyone looked around trying to find the source but it quickly faded away.

“Yes, his brother did say, he was a little...Touched,” Sorelli said carefully. “I’m sure he’ll get over himself, he’s young and impetuous.”

Christine looked at her, wondering what exactly Raoul had told her. Just as she was about to ask, Herman Moncharmin stood up and began to say something in his nasally voice.

“I am so glad that we all could be gathered here on this very important eve. I see not one face absent even though most of you have families at home-”

Christine noticed two absent people, Carlotta and Mrs. Giry. Christine frowned and scanned the room once more, where was Meg?

“Where’s-”

“Sh!” Jammes said. “The prayer is about to start.”

Christine fell silent. After the prayer had ended, she servers began dishing out the food in Styrofoam containers. Christine immediately began tucking her’s away.

“You’re not staying?” Sorelli asked.

“I told my mother I’d be home before midnight,” Christine said. “We always spend Christmas eve together.”

“Ah, well it was good to see you,” Sorelli said. “You’ve been so hard to find lately...If the viscount shows up I’ll let him know.”

“Thank you, I’ll see you at the manatee,” Christine said, rising from her seat. “See you Jammes.”

“Bye Christine,” The young girl chirped.

Christine sneaked around the pillars to the front door, hoping she wouldn’t draw any attention to herself. She didn’t want anyone to think she was being rude by leaving so early. She slipped out the double doors and into the crisp night air. Christine rubbed her hands on the foam box, trying to get as much warmth as she could from it. She looked down the steps and immediately spotted Erik standing at the base. He was wearing some odd garment on his face that looked worse than his usual mask.

“Erik, take that off before someone calls the police,” Christine said.

“How many other men does Erik have to compete with?”

Christine pursed her lips. “I thought you were going to stop eavesdropping on me.”

“Erik was not eavesdropping, Erik was under the table, not in the eaves,” Erik said. “Answer the question.”

“There are no other men,” Christine said.

“So Christine lied?” Erik asked incredulously. 

“A lot of men like me but I don’t like them back,” Christine said. 

“Erik does not like this,” Erik muttered.

“Christine doesn’t like you listening to her conversations,” Christine said flatly. “So I guess we’re both unhappy.”

Erik seemed surprised and laughed uncomfortably. “Christine has- You are no longer afraid of Erik,”

“Did you want me to be?” Christine asked raising an eyebrow.

“No, never,” Erik said quickly. “Erik will- I will walk you home.”

“I didn’t know you left this area,” Christine said genuinely shocked.

“Of course I do,” Erik said.

When he didn’t elaborate Christine shrugged. “Not with that thing on your face, you look like a criminal.”

Erik sighed and removed the fabric, he had his mask on underneath it. Christine pursed her lips, he still looked like a criminal but she decided not to say anything else. Maybe everyone would just think they were going to a masquerade party, on Christmas eve. 

Yes, that made sense.

Christine started down the sidewalk, Erik tailed her like a lost dog. She hoped Raoul didn’t decide to show up now, it would take a lot of explaining to smooth that over, provided Erik didn’t go back on his promise and strangle Raoul. Christine considered it for a while then decided she didn’t care if he showed up as long as Erik didn’t strangle Raoul, she was still upset that he was talking about her behind her back, to her friends of all people. 

It wasn’t like they were in a relationship of anything, not yet. So why did he feel comfortable acting like they were and talking about her to her friends? Her mother’s house was ten blocks away from the opera house, quite a trek in the winter, but Christine found herself lost in her thoughts, to the point that she didn’t even notice when she walked right into her building wall.

“Is Christine drunk?”

“No!” Christine said angrily. “I don’t drink!”

“I see,”

Christine brushed herself off and straightened up, she looked down and let out a dismayed cry, slamming into the wall had crushed the food against her dress causing the gravy from the mashed potatoes to stain the front of her dress. Erik looked at it and thankfully did not comment. The door creaked open and both Erik and Christine froze in place, the commotion had drawn her mother downstairs and she was now standing in the hallway with a confused expression.

“Christine?” Mama Valerius asked. “Is that you?”

“Yes, Mama,” Christine stuttered.

“Who is this?”

Christine looked at Erik, who looked like he was considering running into the shadows and leaving her. If he did that her mother would never trust her to go outside alone, Christine didn’t need people thinking she also fraternized with masked men who acted like they belonged to a cult when addressed, on top of the rest of the issues she was having. Christine grabbed Erik’s arm to stop him from running off.

“This is Erik, from the opera house,” Christine said, deciding not to tell her mother he lived in the opera house.

“I don’t remember you telling me you were bringing over a friend, where’s Monsieur de Chagny?” Mama Valerius asked.

“Family matters,” Christine said. “Erik offered to walk me home.”

“Oh how nice, did you have a play today?” Mama Valerius asked motioning to Erik’s mask.

“We did,” Christine said, feeling guilty for deceiving her mother, they did have a show that morning, but that had nothing to do with Erik’s mask.

“Well, come in, come in,” Mama Valerius said happily stepping back from the door. 

“Christine, I cannot,” Erik said sounding horrified.

“I can’t just let you leave without having at least a cookie, it’s the least I can do,” Mama Valerius said. “Come in.”

“Christine-”

“Come in,” Mama Valerius said in that firm motherly tone that left little room for negotiation.

“It’ll just be for a moment,” Christine said with a sigh. 

Erik remained frozen on the doorstep after Mama Valerius disappeared into their apartment and Christine had to pull him inside.

“She’s not going to eat you,” Christine grunted, Erik was a lot stronger than she anticipated.

“Erik does not associate with people,” Erik said frantically pulling against her.

“Don’t you want to impress my mother?” Christine asked dryly. “How can we ever get married if she doesn’t even know you.”

Christine was being sarcastic but Erik seemed to her statement seriously and allowed her to pull him up the stairs, keeping his mouth pulled into a thin line.

“Erik does not want to go into Christine’s house,” Erik said.

“Well, this isn’t my house,” Christine said smartly. “It’s my mother’s.”

Erik gave her a dark look. “Very funny.”

Christine pulled him over the apartment’s threshold and into the warm living room, it was smaller than any room in Erik’s home, but Christine thought it was far better than anything in that dungeon. Christine noticed Erik staring at the large Christmas tree in the corner of the room, it was large enough that it touched the ceiling. Christine looked at him expectantly, hoping for a compliment of some sort, she had picked it out herself, but none was forthcoming. Mama Valerius had slipped into the kitchen and Christine could smell cookies and plum cake.

“Sit there,” Christine said, pointing to the sofa on the other side of the room. “I need to change.”

“But Christine, Erik does not want to be left alone,” Erik said in a small voice. “With your mother.”

“It’ll be fine,” Christine said and quickly left the room.

Christine went into her tiny room and began rummaging through her drawer until she found a dress that she used around the house, it was a soft cotton blend that was a relief from the restricting lacy gown she’d worn to the party. She slipped it on and dropped her soiled dress into the tub in the bathroom across the hall. When she returned to the living room she found her mother laying out a tray of cookies and Erik looking like he was about to kneel over.

“You came just in time, Christine, the cookies are still soft,”

“Thank you, mama,” Christine said.

“Help yourselves,” Mama Valerius said and tottered back into the kitchen. “The cake needs minding.”

Once she was out of earshot, Christine turned to Erik and shrugged nonchalantly. “See, she doesn’t ask many questions.”

“No, but-”

“So eat something and you can be on your way,” Christine said taking a seat on the sofa and picking up one of the small cookies, she munched on it absentmindedly, her thoughts drifting to Raoul. What could have possibly come up that would keep him from telling her he wasn’t coming anymore. Had he forgotten entirely?

“Christine is frowning,” Erik said lowly. “She is going to grow wrinkles- Not that Erik cares, he is not that vain.”

Christine shook her head but managed a small smile.

“I’m fine,”

“Christine is worried about that boy,” Erik said looking up at the ceiling. “I can’t see why she likes him so much.”

Christine looked at him sharply.

“He’s nice to me,” Christine said.

“He makes Christine cry,”

“So do you,” Christine said.

“I have not! When has Erik ever done such a thing?”

“When I took your mask off and you yelled, a lot,” Christine said.

“Erik does not recall this, but he is very sorry,”

Christine fell silent, mulling over a feeling she couldn’t quite put into words.

“Never mind that,”

“Do you expect the boy to visit you here?”

Christine looked at him in an almost mechanical manner. “No,”

Erik was looking at her with glistening amber eyes behind his opera mask, Christine could see his long fingers twitching. Christine sighed under her breath, both these men had issues.

“Ah, I see,” Erik said uncomfortably. “I- Erik has a question.”

“Let’s not talk about Raoul,” Christine said tiredly.

“Of course, Erik was wondering if he can hold Christine’s hand? Yes, that is it,”

“Why?” Christine asked genuinely bewildered.

Erik made a face. “He just wants to,”

Christine gave him her hand and went back to mulling over Raoul’s absence. She was going to have some very strong words with him when she saw him again.

“Erik loves Christine, he does,”

Christine had heard that so many times it didn’t garner much of a reaction from her anymore.

“Are you going to leave your dungeon?” Christine asked. “Move out?”

“Erik likes his home,” Erik said quietly. “But I will leave for you.”

“What about for you? You’d be happier up here with people to talk to,” Christine said, deciding not to mention how beneficial it would be for his mental health, he’d been upset the last time she told him that.

“Erik does not enjoy people,” Erik said.

Christine shrugged and turned towards the Christmas tree. It was beautifully decorated with tinsel and ornaments. Candy canes hung from the leaves and a single frosted cookie was perched near the top of the tree. Right beside the cookie was a small hanger, Christine had planned to mount the picture of her and Raoul on it. She was glad she hadn’t.

“Erik must leave soon,” 

Christine nodded sullenly, still wrapped up in her thoughts. Erik withdrew his hand and rose to his feet, slinking to the door and opening it almost silently. As he left, Erik glanced over his shoulder.

“Erik hopes Christine enjoys her holiday,”

“You as well,” Christine said more out of reflex than anything else.

When he was gone, Christine slouched back on the couch and closed her eyes. This was not how she imagined her Christmas eve going but there was no point in moping over it. Outside the clock struck twelve.

“Merry Christmas Raoul,” Christine whispered looking at her fingers.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where the mystery part begins.   
> Hope everyone is getting through these times alright.

The matinee was a long one, but it didn’t seem like it. Christine didn’t get the lead this time but the managers assigned her a crucial part and she was more than happy with that. Sorelli was out that morning and Jammes had taken her place, the little girl had done a surprisingly good job. After the show, Christine changed into her thick coat and trekked out into the main hall, it was gorgeously decorated and seemed to sparkle in the sunlight. Christine smiled, it was quite the sight.

“Christine!”

Christine turned around quickly, Raoul was running up to her, his cheeks flushed and his clothing rumpled.

Christine smiled stiffly. “Raoul,”

“Christine,” Raoul gasped.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t come by last night. Philippe called a meeting. It was a mess!”

“What’s a mess?” Christine asked, her expression softening. Raoul seemed almost sick with emotion.

“What happened?” Raoul looked around nervously then said in a low voice. “Philippe wants me to delay my deployment.”

“Oh!” Christine said and grinned. “That’s wonderful news!”

“Keep it down,” Raoul said. “That’s not the issue. He’s trying to match me up with an heiress from before I go.”

Christine raised her eyebrows, her heart sunk. That was terrible news.

“Oh, I see.”

“I’m not going to see her,” Raoul said passionately.

“No?” Christine asked. “How will you manage that?”

“We’ll run away,” Raoul said as if it was the most simple thing in the world.

“My mother wouldn’t like that,” Christine said puffing her cheeks out.

“We’ll take her too then,” Raoul said.

Erik wouldn’t like that.

Christine hunched her shoulders up nervously. “Do you think he’ll just change his mind?”

Raoul blinked in confusion. “No.”

“Ah,”

“What’s the problem?” Raoul said. “Why can’t we just leave?”

“Well I signed a contract for one,” Christine said with a ghost of a smile. “If I break it how will I find work again?”

“You’ll never need to work again!” Raoul said.

“Your brother would disinherit you,” Christine said gently. “I still can work,” Raoul said gruffly. “I’ll take care of you.”

“But I like working too,” Christine said. “Perhaps if I could get the managers to-”

“It’s that man isn’t it?” Raoul asked suddenly, his eyes brimming with tears. “That monster!”

“Raoul!” Christine said glancing over her shoulder worriedly. “I said I signed a contract. Don’t you know what that means?”

“You were willing to leave before!” Raoul said.

“He was here then as well, so how can it be because of him?” Christine asked patiently. “I signed the contract last month and I have another year before it needs to be renewed.”

“Why would you do that?” Raoul asked bitterly.

“Getting a contract is a big deal! It could make my career!” Christine said with wide eyes. “Besides, you said you were leaving so why wouldn’t I?”

Raoul’s mouth opened and closed for several seconds before he said anything at all.

“Well, you could have told me,”

“I was going to when you boarded the boat, so you wouldn’t feel too bad about leaving,” Christine said.

“So what are we going to do?” Raoul asked with a sigh.

Christine rubbed her chin thoughtfully.

There was little she could think of but perhaps...

“Can we talk to your brother?”

Raoul shook his head but after a moment said. “I suppose. Yes we can try.”

They left in a cab and arrived at the count’s house soon after. Christine had forgotten how pretty their house was, but it was to be expected of such a wealthy family.

Christine followed Raoul up the pathway to the large house. The door was open, and Christine noticed Raoul looking at it with a strange expression but he shrugged and they went inside. The grand foyer had a large set of stairs leading to the main floor and Christine took her time climbing up them, it was a beautiful place and Christine was fascinated by it. When they got to the landing, Christine noticed something was wrong, the house was abuzz with noise but there was little speaking.

It sounded like shutters were going off in rapid-fire.

“Philippe?” Raoul called. “Are you there?” Raoul must have sensed the change in the atmosphere and he was reluctant to go any further. Christine craned her neck trying to see where the noise was coming from when Philippe rounded the corner looking ashen and haunted.

“Philippe,” Raoul said sounding relieved. “There you are.”

Philippe looked at both of them and his eyes hardened. “This is not the time Raoul.”

“What’s going on?” Raoul asked.

Philippe seemed to be considering his response carefully, finally, he sighed heavily and kneaded his forehead. For a long moment, he was silent, staring at the floor with a heavy frown, when he spoke it sent a chill down Christine’s spine.

“Sorelli is dead,”

“What?” Christine screamed, her voice echoed through the halls.

Philippe winced.

“She was found in our pond this morning,” Philippe said. “Needless to say there is an investigation going on.”

“What?” Christine repeated. “I just saw her last night!”

Philippe looked at her with an unreadable expression for a moment before nodding.

“The investigators will love to hear all about that,” Philippe said.

“Good thing I brought her here then,” Raoul said sounding unsure of himself.

Philippe shot him a dark look and motioned for Christine to follow him, which after glancing at Raoul for assurance, she did. Philippe led her to a large green room that reminded her of the one Erik made for her, it had a small, clawed couch with a bright red cushion. In the middle of the room was a man dressed neatly in the uniform of a detective.

“Detective Marlon, this is Ms. Daae my brother’s _friend_. She stopped by to harass me about their puppy love. She claims to have seen Sorelli last night,” Philippe said. Christine looked at him, she couldn’t tell if he was upset by Sorelli’s death or not. His expression was blank. Christine looked back at Detective Marlon.

“She was my friend,” Christine said lowly. “Are you sure it’s her?”

“Of course, I identified her,” Philippe said then stepped out of the room.

Seconds later she heard muffled shouts and Raoul complaining. Detective Marlon quickly pushed up the door and Christine sat down.

“Ms. Daae, I’m sure this is a shock,” Marlon said.

“Yes,” Christine said. “Poor Sorelli! On Christmas day!” Marlon nodded comfortingly then launched into his questions.

“You saw Sorelli? When?”

“Last night at the party,” Christine said and then added. “Our managers throw a little party before Christmas.”

“Did she drink anything?” Marlon asked.

“She might have,” Christine said chewing her lip trying to remember.

“A glass or two while I was there.”

“You left before she did?”

“Yes,”

"What time?”

“Around eleven,” Christine said, she looked down, struck by a terrifying thought. “W-What time did Sorelli die?”

“Sometime early in the morning,”

“Before midnight?” Christine asked tentatively, it couldn’t be Erik. Why would he kill Sorelli?

Marlon shrugged. “What happened at midnight?”

“Nothing particular, just saw a strange man roaming around,” The detective looked intrigued.

“What did he look like?”

“Tall and thin, he was hiding his face,” Christine said dryly. “But he wouldn’t have had time to get to Sorelli if she died around midnight.”

“Hm,” The detective said jotting down something in his notepad.

“Did she drown?” Christine asked. “Maybe she got drunk and decided to visit the count?”

If she had been strangled, Christine would know.

“We thought so at first, but it looks like she was struck in the back of the head before falling into the pond,” Marlon said.

Christine was relieved for a fraction of a second before overwhelming guilt crashed down on her. So what if it wasn’t Erik? Sorelli was dead! Christine buried her face in her hands.

“Have you spoken to opera house workers? They would know more about where Sorelli went after I left,”

“Tell me something Ms. Daae,” Marlon said. “Is the count hot-headed?”

“No,” Christine said. “He’s very patient with Raoul, I’ve never seen him go off before.”

“Did Sorelli ever complain about the count?”

“She wanted him to marry her,” Christine said. “But he wouldn’t.”

“Why not?” Marlon asked.

“Social hierarchy,” Christine said. “But she said he was coming around.”

“Hmm,” Marlon said then tapped his chin with his pencil. “Do you think she could have been pregnant?”

Christine was stunned. Her mouth flew open and she jumped back in her seat.

“No! Sorelli wasn’t like that-” Christine began, but as she thought about it she wasn’t sure, people sometimes acted out of character. If Sorelli was desperate enough to marry the count would she have tried to trick him into marrying her? That trick never worked even Christine knew that. “Why?”

“Just curious,” Marlon said.

“Well, you’ll find out soon enough won't you?”

“So you do think it’s a possibility?” Marlon asked curiously.

“Philippe wouldn’t have killed her over that,” Christine said. “He’s not the type.”

He probably would have fled the country.

“Is Viscount de Chagny out there?”

“Yes,” Christine said.

“Thank you. That’ll be all Ms. Daae,”

Christine stepped into the hall, she felt lightheaded and nauseous. She found Raoul brooding at the end of the hall and went up to him.

“I think the detective wants to talk to you,” Christine said.

“Why?”

“Because you live here I guess,” Christine said, then sunk to the floor, sitting on the first step of the grand stairway. “Where is Philippe?”

“Outside with my sister,”

“Oh,” Christine said. “Did they take Sorelli away?”

“I don’t know,” Raoul said.

“Probably not, you left just before the matinee started,” Christine said. “Philippe couldn’t have discovered her before then or you would have known.”

“I think it was the maid but yeah,” Christine rose to her feet again and started down the steps.

“Where are you going?” Raoul asked.

“I want to see Sorelli,” Christine said. “I need to be sure.”

“Sure?” Raoul asked incredulously.

Christine didn’t respond, she raced out of the house, moving with speed despite her aching head.

She ran to the back of the house and followed the cobblestone path to the large pond. It had been cordoned off but in the distance, Christine could see a small figure with honey blonde hair laying in the sun. She was wearing a white dress that was now stained with green, even from several meters away Christine knew it was Sorelli. She was wearing the same flower brooch in her hair as she had been at the party. Christine wondered why the police hadn’t covered her up yet. Christine put her hands to her mouth, pacing back and forth, saying a silent prayer. How did this happen? Sorelli was a sweet soul, she loved the count, she was a good friend and looked after Jammes. How was it possible that someone once so full of life was now still and cold? It made no sense and only Sorelli and God knew how it happened. And whoever killed her.

 _Or whatever._ Christine reminded herself, maybe a piece of hail fell from the sky and cracked Sorelli in the back of the head.

It was possible.

Christine blinked her eyes quickly, the tears brimming in her eyes overflowed and ran down her cheeks. Christine wiped them away and fled the courtyard before anyone could stop her and ask questions again.

She needed to get back to the opera house.

* * *

Erik was exactly where she expected him to be, sitting at his piano looking disgusted with his life.

This was one of the few hobbies he had in life, when she came into the room he glanced up at her with baleful yellow eyes. He wasn’t wearing his mask or his fake nose but he seemed too upset to care.

“You went off with that boy,” Erik said grimly. “Erik will not-”

“Not now!” Christine said, pacing the room frantically.

Erik watched her with a stunned expression. “What’s wrong with Christine?”

“Erik,” Christine said drawing a deep breath. “I need to ask you something.”

“Go on,” Erik said quietly.

Christine wasn’t sure if she wanted to know the truth. Despite his problems, she had grown attached to Erik, something she didn’t quite understand herself.

“Would you kill one of my friends?”

“If they hurt Christine yes,” Erik said without hesitation. “B-but he is working on such impulses, he knows you would be angry if he did that.”

“Yes, and Erik doesn’t want to go to hell does he?” Christine asked sharply.

Erik looked uncomfortable. “Why is Christine speaking like this? Erik has been very good, Erik has read the Bible like Christine told him to, he has not killed anyone after that one time!”

“What one time?”

“That man who dared break into Erik’s house!” Erik said slamming his fist on the piano.

“You didn’t kill anyone yesterday or this morning?” Christine asked looking him in the eye.

“No,”

Christine looked away, she believed him.

“Someone killed Sorelli,”

“Who is this?”

“My friend, the blonde dancer who was dating Raoul’s brother,” Christine said.

“Oh yes, Erik knows her. Erik was hoping she would switch brothers,” Erik said dryly. “I saw her last night. She left in a carriage.”

“With who?”

“An overweight man,” Erik said.

“Did they go north or south?”

“South,”

“That’s opposite of the de Chagny’s,”

“Yes but there are many side streets,” Erik said unhelpfully.

“What did the man look like?” Christine asked.

“Fat, pale, bald and wrinkly,”

“Have you seen him before?”

“No, but I will ask Daroga if he has,” Erik said.

“Please do,”

“Erik will be happy to,”

Christine took a seat on one of the chairs in the room, kneading her head in her hands.

Poor Sorelli, she didn’t deserve this and now the count was a suspect in the case. Christine barely noticed Erik coming to sit beside her.

”I’m sorry your friend died,” Erik said. “Erik never would do this to you.”

“I know,” Christine said, feeling slightly guilty about blaming him in the first place. But Daroga had told her what had happened in the east. That was a different time but still...It left a lasting impression in her mind, and Erik wasn’t exactly stable.

“Erik hopes so,” Erik said. “He loves Christine.” “You keep saying that,”

“Because it is true,”

Christine looked at him, a light bulb went off in her head. “I hope so because I have a plan and I’m going to need your help.”

“Huh?”

Christine grabbed his hands and pulled him off the seat. “I’m going to find out who killed Sorelli and to do that I need to find the man she left with.”

“Oh, Erik will keep an eye out,”

“No we’re going outside,” Christine said. With someone like Erik helping her, she was bound to find that man. If Erik could stalk her around the opera house and outside of it, he could find one carriage driver. “I knew coming to talk to you was a good idea!”

She grabbed his face and planted an impulsive kiss on his forehead then turned and clapped wildly, it may have been the shock of the morning getting to her but she was ecstatic instead of heartbroken. There was a loud thud behind her, Christine turned around and found Erik collapsed on the floor.

“Erik!”

She leaned down beside him, he was still breathing but he was staring up at the ceiling unblinkingly.

“Erik? Are you okay?”

“Yes,” Erik said. “Erik was just surprised.”

Christine stared at him, it took her a moment to realize why. When she did she chuckled in embarrassment. “Right, I’m sorry.”

“It is alright,” Erik said rubbing his forehead.

“Erik is just not used to affection.”

Christine patted him apologetically.

Poor Erik. There were a lot of poor souls in her life.

**Author's Note:**

> I've noticed that in a lot of adaptions, Erik is a lot more vicious than in the books, where while he's clearly insane, has sweeter tendencies. I plan to do something a little different and focus more on those aspects, primarily because I don't like those kinds of relationships.


End file.
